


Talk To Me

by NightHeda



Category: The 100 (TV), clexa - Fandom
Genre: Clarke refuses to give up, Clexa, Couldn't decide., Depression, F/F, Mental Health Issues, Read at Your Own Risk, Sad Clarke, Sad Lexa, Sad but Funny, Smooth Lexa, Suicide, Telephone Counseling, This one is dramatic as fuck, clexa au, depressed Lexa, suicidal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 17:02:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12085407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightHeda/pseuds/NightHeda
Summary: Clarke works at a telephone counseling service, and one night, she receives a call from a stranger. And nothing could have prepared her for what comes next.





	Talk To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I vowed I'd never write one–shots, but this one has been on my mind for a while now. I actually wanted it to be a multiple chapters story, I had half of the first chapter ready for ages but I never felt inspired enough to finish it. Today, I sat down and thought it would be perfect one–shot material. So that's what I created. 
> 
> (I encourage you to read the whole thing. Don't stop in the middle. Don't. I swear. You won't be able to sleep if you don't finish it.) 
> 
> As always, feel free to leave kudos or comments or even come say Hi on _[instagram](http://www.instagram.com/clexa_hedas)_. :)
> 
> (PS: Since English is not my native language – have mercy! Sorry for any mistakes)

With a huff, Clarke plopped down on her couch and reached for her now cold coffee. It was Friday night and she knew she shouldn't be drinking coffee this late, but her shift wouldn't be over until 11pm, which meant she still had thirty minutes to go. Scrunching up her nose, she took a sip of the bitter drink and clicked the _Answer_ button on her laptop.

“Hello, this is Clarke. How I can help you?”

She was met with silence. After patiently waiting for a long moment, she finally heard something. She turned up the volume of her macbook, and squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on figuring out what the muffled sounds were.

“Hello?” She tried again and this time, the sounds were clearer. She frowned. _Sobbing._ “Take your time,” she said reassuringly, her voice as soft as possible, “I'm here.”

Another while passed with Clarke sitting completely still, deeply focused on the sounds on the other end of the call, until she heard the clearing of a throat.

“ _I–,“_ the other person tried but a soft sob cut the voice off. Clarke leaned forward and opened her notebook to quickly scribble down a note. _Woman._

“ _I'm sorry, this– I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. Bye.”_

“Wait!” Clarke exclaimed, alarmed. She held her breath to be as quiet as possible, and she slowly released it when she realized the other person hadn't hung up on her yet. “Please, don't be sorry,” she said softly, “you don't have to say anything.”

Clarke paused, waiting for a reply. When nothing but a soft sniff came, she calmly continued. “We can just stay quiet, if you want.”

Another pause.

“ _Okay…”_

Clarke crossed her legs and pulled a blanket over her shoulders to get a bit more comfortable, and readjusted her headset. Except for breathing quietly and letting out a sob every once in a while, the woman on the other end of the call didn't make any sounds. Minutes passed by, Clarke's shift would be over soon, but the blonde wasn't going to hang up on the stranger. Absentmindedly scanning the walls with her eyes, she thought about her usual conversation partners. She had started the telephone counseling work two years ago, mainly because she wanted to help teenagers, to be there for them, no matter what they were struggling with, but after a few months she'd had to switch to adult counseling, and she had been listening to old ladies whose cats had run away, or men who didn't know how to handle their single life properly ever since.This situation was new, and she didn't really know how to lead this call with the other woman.

Clarke was pulled out of her aimless line of thoughts when she heard the clearing of a throat. Instinctively, she pressed her headphones closer to her ears.

“ _Clarke?”_

“I'm here.”

“ _Would you tell me something about yourself?”_

Clarke ached for the woman, tears evident in her soft voice when it broke at the end of her question. She wished there was a manual guide for these situations, but there wasn't, and she just had to trust herself.

“Well, I'm Clarke. I'm 26 and I…” she sighed, “I'm not good at this.”

“ _At what?”_

“Talking about myself. I don't know what you'd like to hear.” She admitted and waited patiently for the woman's reply, her eyes lazily shifting to the clock on the wall that indicated that her shift had ended five minutes ago.

“ _Anything you'd like to tell me. What makes you happy?”_

“Wow, that's a deep question.” Clarke couldn't help but let out a small laugh but quickly regained composure, knowing that the other woman probably wasn't in the mood for jokes. “Okay um… I love art, I love creating it. Anything really, I don't care. Painting, drawing, throwing brushes at a wall and seeing how it turns out… When I was a kid, I was too lazy to get sheets of paper, so more often than not, I just grabbed a few crayons and painted our living room walls, which drove my mom crazy, but my dad always encouraged me, sometimes he'd even join me. Once a year, the two of us were forced to paint the wall over so it was all white and nice again, but it didn't last long.”

Clarke smiled at the memory of her and her dad, sitting in front of the wall next to her dad's piano, legs crossed, armed with crayons of any size and color.

“ _That's a beautiful memory.”_ The other woman said after a moment of silence, and Clarke nodded, mentally facepalming herself because the stranger couldn't really see the motion.

“It is…”

A comfortable silence settled between them again. Clarke didn't really know what to say, or if the stranger wanted her to continue at all. Cold air reached her feet, and she scolded herself for not closing the window on the other side of the room before answering the call. However, she didn't want to get up and risk missing something from the woman, a sentence, or a question, or even a sound that gave away a hint of her emotional state, so she pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders and covered her feet with it as well before reaching out to grab an additional pillow. Just as she was about to burrow her nose into it to keep it warm, she heard a muffled sound that sounded like the stranger unscrewed and removed a bottle's cap. Her guess was confirmed when she heard a few gulps, a long exhale, a soft clink as the stranger sat down the bottle on a surface, wood maybe, and then put the cap back on. Clarke waited patiently.

“ _I'm Lexa.”_

“I've never heard that name before.” Clarke admitted, encouraging the other woman to talk.

“ _It's short for Alexandria. No one has called me that in ages. I just go by Lexa now.”_

“Well, it's a beautiful name actually.” Clarke said, the soft smile evident in her voice. She glanced at the clock, they'd been on the phone for almost an hour now.

“ _Clarke, I'll be honest with you.”_

Clarke furrowed her brows about the change in the woman's voice. She sounded serious now, but much calmer. Clarke wished she could see her, see her face, figure out what she was feeling. The answer came sooner than Clarke had been prepared for.

“ _I took some pills.”_

“Okay…?” Clarke started, uncertain of where this was going, trying to shut out the voice in her head that was screaming at her, that she knew what was going on. She tried to keep her breathing calm, but her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was sure it was just a matter of time before it would explode and burst her ribcage into pieces. She covered her microphone with her left hand before taking in a deep breath, releasing it after a few seconds. When she was sure she could trust her voice, she removed her hand from the mic. “How many?”

“ _Enough.”_

Clarke felt the panic slowly creeping up her spine, causing her shoulders to tense up as she dug her nails into the soft flesh of her thigh. She didn't know what to do. She felt helpless. She hadn't signed up for this. She wanted someone to help her out of this, to wake her up, she wanted someone to tell her it was just a bad dream and everything was okay, but she knew that no one would come. No one would wake her up. It was just her and Lexa.

“ _Would you stay with me?”_

The calmness of Lexa's voice sent a wave of tears into Clarke's eyes, so unexpectedly, so brutally, at full force, that a heavy sob erupted from her body.

“ _It's okay, Clarke. You don't have to.”_

Clarke quickly shook her head, ignorant to the fact that Lexa couldn't see her. “No, I…” she squeezed her eyes shut, still shaking her head, her nails still digging into her thigh as she tried to get her breathing back under control, but unsuccessfully so.

She was sure the skin of her thigh was broken by now, she knew she should probably patch it up but she couldn't care less about that now. “I just don't… I've never…” she tried to come up with words, tried to phrase her thoughts, but her head was spinning.

“ _It's okay. You don't have to say anything.”_ Lexa's voice was soft as she spoke, her breathing calm. _“You know what's funny?”_

Clarke blinked a few times at the unexpected turn of the conversation. She sucked in a shaky breath. “No?”

“ _I called you because I felt like I needed someone to calm me down, and yet here I am, calm as the Dalai Lama himself while you're kind of losing it.”_

A small smile of amusement was evident in the woman's voice, and Clarke let out a sound she didn't know she could make, a mixture of a laughter and the heaviest sob she had ever had.

“Life is weird like that, huh?” She laughed while reaching out to grab a tissue. They stayed silent for another long while. Clarke guessed that Lexa was waiting patiently for her to calm down and stop crying. It took her a few minutes to collect herself.

“I'm so sorry for that breakdown.”

“ _Don't be.”_

Clarke nodded and took a moment to debate whether she should actually shoot out the one burning question or not. Before she could stop herself, she blurted it out. “Why?”

“ _Why what?”_

“Why do you feel like there's no way out?”

On the other side of the call, Lexa let out a soft puff of air, and Clarke imagined that she was smiling.

“ _There is a way out, and I took it.”_

A new wave of tears formed in the blonde's eyes. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“ _What would you like to know?”_

“What do you look like?”

“ _Average height, average weight, brown hair, green eyes… and you?”_

“Average height, um… curves…” Clarke laughed at her euphemistic description of the few unnecessary extra pounds, “blonde hair, blue eyes. Stupid dimple on my chin, annoying beauty spot above my upper lip.”

“ _I bet it makes you even more beautiful.”_

Clarke blushed a bit at the blunt compliment. “You don't even know what I look like though.”

“ _No, I don't. But I'm sure I'm right about it. You have a beautiful soul, and that makes you beautiful outside as well.”_

Clarke snorted in amused disbelief. “Smooth, Lex.” She was surprised about the use of a nickname and held her breath for a moment, unsure if it had upset Lexa.

“ _See, even in my last minutes I know how to woo a lady.”_

Clarke could practically see the woman's smug grin. She was just about to shoot back a snarky response when the first part of Lexa's sentence hit her.

She closed her eyes for a moment to regain the strength to talk. “I wish you had more time left to woo a lady.”

On the other side of the phone, Lexa let out a soft laugh. _“Just for your information, because you can't see me, I'm raising one eyebrow.”_

“Why's that?”

“ _Sounded like you wanted me to keep wooing you.”_

Clarke's eyes widened in realization. “No! That's not what I… that's not what I meant!”

“ _Would you mind though?”_

“Honest answer?”

“ _I don't exactly have time for non–honest answers.”_

“I wouldn't mind it at all.”

“ _Okay… that was unexpected.”_ Lexa laughed again and then let out a sound of distress.

“Lexa? What's wrong?”

“ _Cramps.”_

“You sound like me while pms–ing.”

“ _Don't worry, I'm not pms–ing.”_

“I'd prefer if you were though.”

“ _Don't get attached, Clarke.”_

Clarke shrugged. “Already did.” She knew she shouldn't have said that. She shouldn't even feel like that in the first place. But Lexa's voice was so gentle, and it didn't matter to Clarke that they had never met, and never would, and that she had only known Lexa for one and a half hours, she couldn't help but feel close to her already.

“ _Maybe it's better if we hang up now. That way you can just pretend I was messing with you and go on with your life.”_

The blonde sucked in another shaky breath as she wiped away some fresh tears. “That would be the easy way out, right?”

“ _I guess.”_

“Well, I'm not a quitter. Pun intended.”

“ _Shots fired, huh?”_

“Hope they hit you hard.”

“ _Stray bullet, right into my guts. Sounds just as fun.”_ Lexa joked, and Clarke tried to adapt to that light mood but she couldn't. She just couldn't. Another wave of helplessness flooded her body. She wanted to help Lexa, she wanted to send out ambulances, and even more, she wanted to rescue the woman herself, just so that she could slap her right in the face for being so incredibly stupid and careless. Clarke slowly but surely worked herself up.

“You know, you're a pretty ignorant egoist, Lexa. Calling me, surprising me, catching me off guard with this stupid ass stunt you're pulling over there. Forcing me to practically pat you on the back for dying on me.”

The boiling anger in her stomach threatened to burn her insides. She knew she shouldn't have lost her composure like this, Lexa had made her choice before the blonde had answered the call, she had been in need of company, probably still was, and even in such a situation, she was strong enough to admit that she needed help, or company, or whatever it was that she actually needed. Clarke wasn't sure. She waited for a long moment but Lexa remained silent. Another wave of panic washed through the blonde's body.

“Lexa?”

There was a long pause and Clarke almost lost her sanity over it. She was sure she had never felt so relieved before in her life when Lexa finally answered.

“ _Still here.”_

“I'm sorry about this outburst. Again.” The blonde laughed. “Guess I'm really not the right person for this job.”

“ _I'll ask for someone else next time.”_ Clarke closed her eyes at Lexa's soft voice. She was too tired, physically and especially emotionally, to be angry.

“There's nothing I can do, right?”

“ _You could promise me something.”_

“Depends on what it is.”

“ _Promise me you'll not let this drag you down. I want you to go on just like before. Do you have a boyfriend?”_

Clarke laughed.

“ _What's so funny?”_

“I'm gay as fuck.”

“ _How convenient, so am I.”_

“Maybe we met for a reason. Just for your information, I'm winking at you.”

“ _We're not having phone sex, Clarke. Forget it.”_

“Wouldn't that be a glorious ending though?”

“ _Coming and going at the same time… I bet I'd be more confused than satisfied.”_

“Damn. It was worth a try though.”

Clarke laughed again, her mood started to brighten up a bit again. A few minutes passed where neither of them said anything, until she heard Lexa huffing again. Clarke knew that her liver was probably starting to fail, and she could only imagine the immense pain that Lexa was feeling.

“Lexa?”

She was met with a few more whimpers and groans. “Lex?”

“ _Maybe we should actually try that phone sex thing. Might distract me a bit. What are you wearing?”_

“Are you kidding me?”

“ _Come on Clarke, don't be a buzzkill.”_

“How about you call a fucking ambulance and find out for yourself?”

Another painful groan escaped Lexa. _“Maybe I should do that.”_

Clarke shot into an upright position, her eyes wide, her heart pounding, her body filling with sparks of hope. Fireworks of hope, to be precise.

“Then move your stupid ass and do it!” Clarke paused, trying to figure out what was going on on Lexa's side of the call. “Lexa?”

She waited for another moment, the fireworks of hope slowly dying down. “Lex, answer me!”

Silence.

“Lex! … _Goddamnit_ ,” she cursed to herself, “I swear if you don't answer me, I'll come and strangle you with my bare hands, so help me God!” She was a crying mess now. “… Lexa!”

“ _Right here, all alive and well. Didn't want you to hear me throwing up because that's gross.”_

“Oh Jesus motherfucking Christ, Lexa! Please, never do that again!”

“ _Don't worry.”_

“You know what? Scratch that. Do that again, as often as you want, as long as it means you're actually staying.”

“ _I'm high as fuck.”_ Lexa laughed.

“What exactly did you take?” Clarke asked, mentally scrolling through the list of medication she knew that killed you when overdosing on them, figuring out the best way to delay their effect in record time.

“ _A bit of everything.”_

“You stupid son of a bitch.”

“ _Eloquent, Clarke. Impressive even. Especially the son part.”_

“Shut up. Save your sarcasm for our first meeting.”

Lexa let out another small laughter. _“Will do.”_

They fell silent again. Clarke glanced up at the clock, they had been on the phone for two hours now. There was still hope, there was still time for help, and she prayed to the Gods that, miraculously, an ambulance would show up.

“Hey Lex, what's your biggest wish? Like, number one wish?” The blonde asked, wondering what Lexa's answer would be. She had been trying to figure out what kind of person Lexa was but she had nothing to go with, really. She could be anything from a frustrated lawyer to a drug addicted rockstar, with a life dream as simple as rescuing turtles, or as badass as to people the Mars. She waited for another minute or two for Lexa to answer, but the line stayed silent.

“Are you throwing up again? You could at least warn me so that I don't die from worrying.” Clarke joked but her face quickly fell when she realized that she couldn't hear anything, at all. “Lexa, talk to me!”

She turned up the volume to maximum and closed her eyes again, trying desperately to make out any sound, at all, but she was met with dead silence. She shuddered at the thought of how literal this choice of words might be. Then she heard the beep that indicated the end of the call.

Her breathing picked up on speed while she checked her laptop, again and again, but it was over. There was no way to call Lexa back. She stared at the screen, paralyzed. The next few minutes went by in a blur. She didn't know she was throwing the mug against the wall in front of her, the cold coffee painting the wall in a muddy brown. She didn't know she was crying out in frustration and anger and helplessness. She didn't know she was hitting the backrest of her couch multiple times, until her bruised knuckles went numb.

She stayed on her couch for what felt like hours, eyes squeezed shut, her forehead resting on her tucked up knees, softly rocking back and forth. Thoughts and images of Lexa flashed through her mind, she imagined her sitting on the couch as well, talking to Clarke, laughing with her and about herself. She imagined the sparkles in Lexa's green eyes and her smug grin when she flirted with Clarke. She imagined how Lexa tucked up her knees when the cramps kicked in. And she imagined how Lexa slowly closed her eyes with a smile on her face, amused that the last thing someone would ever call her was _Son of a bitch_.

After an eternity and a half, Clarke weakly raised her head and wiped away some tears, then glanced at the clock on the wall. The call had ended twenty–two minutes ago. She closed her eyes, took some long breaths to calm herself down, as much as possible at least. She knew she wouldn't be strong enough to drag herself to her bedroom tonight, so she laid down on the couch and curled up into a fetus position, the blanket pulled up so that only her nose was peaking out. The exhaustion kicked in much sooner than expected, and Clarke was dozing off less than a minute later.

She jumped awake when a loud, shrill sound pulled her out of her dreamless sleep. Utterly confused, she looked around to locate the source of the almost painful noise, until her eyes landed on her laptop. In an instant, she was wide awake again as the memories came crushing down on her.

She quickly answered the call.

“Lexa?”

“ _This is doctor Jackson speaking. Is there any chance your name is… Clarke, ma'am?”_

Clarke heard her blood pumping in her ears and it took her a moment to focus back on the call. Her voice cracked when she answered. “Yes, I'm Clarke Griffin.”

“ _Would you be able to come to the Polis Memorial Hospital?”_

Clarke's mind was racing, she suddenly felt dizzy. The Polis Memorial Hospital was only a few blocks away, she could have saved Lexa, she could have saved her all along. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing and not lose control. Not now. “W–why?”

“ _Miss Woods left a note, it says your name and your number, and since you're the only contact we could find, it would be really helpful if you could come.”_

Clarke stayed silent for a long moment.

“ _Ma'am?”_

“I'm sorry, I… I don't know her, we only talked once. She called me today and she… then she… I won't be able to identify her, I–“ a heavy sob cut her off.

“ _You won't need to identify her.”_

“What do you mean?”

“ _I'm sorry if you misunderstood me. Miss Woods is not dead. She's unconscious, but we were able to remove the substances before they could cause irreparable damage, and we thought you would want to be there when she wakes up. We weren't aware that you don't know her. I'm sorry for bothering. Have a nice–”_

Clarke snapped back to reality in a split second. “No, wait! I'm coming, I'll be right there!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dying to hear your thoughts! <3
> 
> * I know that this is a very sensitive topic, and if you ever need an open ear, or anything else, I'm here. No matter how dark life seems, you're not alone. People will listen. Don't be afraid to talk about your struggles.


End file.
